


Not For Long

by druscilla



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Beginnings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:12:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/druscilla/pseuds/druscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete gets Patrick through the night before their first show.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not For Long

Patrick threw up the night before their first show. Pete was staying at his house because he was worried the singer might freak out and skip town. Now he was in the bathroom holding the younger boy’s long hair in his hands and rubbing his back. “You should not be freaking out like this,” he said, with a frown. “You’ve got this.”

There was a retching noise as the younger was sick again. Pete sighed and tucked the boy’s hair in the back of his shirt collar while he wandered into the kitchen to get a glass of water. When he got back, Patrick was crawling into bed. Pete pushed the glass of water into his hands and the younger boy accepted it wordlessly, draining half of it and passing it back with trembling hands.

Pete put it on the desk and slid under the covers with the boy in his twin bed. They were facing each other and Pete fumbled until both of Patrick’s hands were in his. “You’ve got to relax,” he whispered, working the balled fists open to massage the palms with his fingers. “It’s not that bad once you’re up there, I promise.”

Patrick made a small noise in the back of his throat like he was trying not to cry. He wouldn’t look at the other boy. It hurt, somewhere in his throat, a sharp pull. He couldn’t explain that to Pete. Not Pete who could control a crowd or a room or a person with a look. Pete wouldn’t understand.

“You could take your glasses off,” Pete suggested softly. “Then you wouldn’t be able to see. You’re blind as a bat, right?”

Patrick choked on his laugh and then bit his lip hard to fight the tears now trying to work past his closed eyelids. He could feel Pete let go of his hands, but only so he could bring his arms up and pull Patrick into the solidness of his chest. “Let it out,” he whispered. “Better here now than tomorrow then.”

It was ego and self preservation forcing Patrick to fight it. He didn’t want Pete to see him cry. How could a singer cry about having to sing? This was never going to work. He was going to have to go back to drumming. That wouldn’t be so bad, would it, hidden in the back?

The first tear slipped out of the corner of his eye and he whimpered, pressing his face harder into Pete’s chest to keep the dam from breaking. One of Pete’s hands slipped up further to tug gently at the back of Patrick’s hair. “You’re not going to scare me off.”

Like he was reading Patrick’s mind. The younger boy froze for a moment and then the tears were there, quiet and muffled by Pete’s shirt. He hit a weak fist against the other boy’s arm but it was a pathetic attempt. Pete caught it in his and pressed a kiss to the knuckles before he went back to squeezing Patrick so tightly that it hurt just enough.

“They’re gonna love you,” Pete told him.

The younger boy shook his head. “They’ll love _you,"_ he whispered, voice still muffled and tinged with tears.

Pete gripped Patrick’s should so he could push the younger boy back and look at him. Patrick wouldn’t meet his eyes, but his cheeks were wet and he was biting the inside of his cheek, Pete could tell. “Hey, stop that. You don’t want to be me.”

That time the blue eyes flicked to him, shining behind eyelashes sticking together by tears. “You’re so good at people. I can’t. I just …” He trailed off as he saw the light go off behind Pete’s eyes. His ears were practically glowing.

“You sing. I’ll talk.” Pete said simply.

Patrick just stared at him. “Can we… Can you? Will that work?”

Pete shrugged that casual cocky shrug of his. “I’ll make it work. If it makes you sing.”

Patrick ducked his head down again, this time because he was blushing. “You’re the only one who thinks I can sing.”

Pete leaned forward to kiss his forehead. “Not for long.”


End file.
